Letting Go
(Published in “Tales from the Manchester Arms”, an anthology of the Canadian Authors Association of Toronto)
Shane Joseph

...He had picked their favorite French restaurant. The one they had come to over the years on this very same evening. The place had been recently renovated; the lighting recessed and subdued and the décor a shade darker; the murals were sharper and indoor plants fresher. Diners were encapsulated in muted conversations at widely spread out tables. That’s why he liked coming here – the quiet, the privacy and the good food. The menu still offered her favorite: lobster gratinee and crème brule. They usually shared dessert, dipping spoons and feeding each other.
...When she did not show up at 7 o’clock, he ordered a whiskey sour to calm his nerves. The wine sat chilling in the bucket and he did not want to pour a glass yet. At 7.30, he realized she was not coming and ordered another whiskey sour.
.He took out his cell phone and called her. No answer. He disconnected and placed the phone on the table. As he sipped his whisky, it rang.
... “Wh…where are you?” he said, wanting to sound gruff, but stammering instead.
... “I’m at Caruso’s – across town. I needed a change of scene.”
...“But I had it all set up here.”
...“Things are different now, Brad.”
...“It takes getting used to.”
...“If you catch a cab you’ll still get here in time. I’ve got a table.”
...“But it was supposed to be like it used to be.”
...“Nothing is as it used to be – nothing ever is. Are you coming?”
...He drained his drink reluctantly. “Give me twenty minutes.”
...He stumbled out of the restaurant, tossing cash on the table, answering the waiter’s quizzical look with, “You can serve the wine as the house specialty tonight – it’s paid for. See you later.”
...He hailed a cab and gave the driver an extra ten dollars to break the speed limit and get him to Caruso’s inside twenty minutes.
...Caruso’s’ garish neon sign was visible for two blocks; a glitzy, busy grill that was the in-place for city professionals and the occasional movie star. He’d been here once with the guys from the office. Amidst exotic daiquiris and jarring music that increased ones blood pressure, he had gouged on Caruso’s signature steak, which in turn raised his heart pump a few more notches. And the brazen waiter even pointed out that the tip had been below the expected twenty percent.
...Tonight the music was a kind of jazz, heavy metallic stuff that he couldn’t understand. The entrance had a line up with a sign saying “30 to 45 minute wait”; yet diners hung around nursing drinks at the bar. She was over at a small table by the window, just enough to squeeze two (and he’d just vacated one for four at the French place). Inching past packed tables and waiters rushing by with steaming dishes, he caught his breath as he neared.
...Her hair was cut short and dyed ash blonde to hide the gray streaks. She was wearing a dark blue suit and round earrings he’d never seen on her before – she’d always worn tiny stud things. Her profile was more aquiline and she’d lost weight, finally.
...“You look stunning,’ he said.
...“You look flustered,” she said coolly, sipping a pink gin. “Sit down, relax I have your whiskey sour coming up.”
...“I’ve had a couple already.”
...“You’re not driving tonight, I presume.”
...“Why did you change location?”
...“Let’s just say that I like doing what I damn well please now. It’s nice to see you, Brad.”
...“It’s nice seeing you too.”
...“How’s work?”
...“Same old – lots of travel. Company’s got a special project running in Mexico. Boss says I can bid for senior vice president if we pull this one off.”
...“So our Brad is on planes regularly again?”
...“I don’t enjoy the travel part you know. Nobody understands.”
...“I understood – being in the empty house with two screaming kids.”
...“Jane – let’s not go there.”
...“Yes, let’s not go there.” His drink came and they were silent in their own thoughts.
...“How are Josh and Billy?” she asked.
...“Times are tough, living with dad.”
...“Why?”
...“Well – they’ve gotta wash their plates, mow the lawn, take the garbage out on Wednesday nights – no matter what their plans are with friends, part-time work, hockey or studies. Josh even does laundry on Thursdays.”
...“Good – hard work never killed anyone.”
...“Right. How about you?”
.. “I’m opening up the travel agency, finally.”
.. “The one you’ve always dreamed about.”
...“It’s tough and I had to take a bank loan. Still beats minding kids, doing dishes, laundry and groceries. And –”
...“Yeah – hard work never killed anyone, eh?”
...“Right. Give the boys my love. I’ll see them next weekend, I suppose.”
...They ordered dinner. Salad and steak. The knives on the table were like cleavers. He ordered a Chianti to mellow things.
...Over the salad she told him about Jim. Sixty, rich, recently widowed. They had just returned from a holiday in Bermuda. Over steaks that still dripped blood, she described the island and the experiences she and Jim had shared together.
...He had difficulty with the rare meat but she ploughed through it methodically. He drank more wine instead.
...“Jim’s a bit old for you, no?”
...“No. He’s calmer. He’s seen life. He’s easier to deal with.”
...“How about sex?” He bit hard into the meat.
...“That’s good too. He’s not what you were ten years ago but I respect his limitations. There are all kinds of medicinal aids these days if things get really bad – so, I’m not too worried. How about you?”
...“Tried the singles scene and gave it up – too dangerous and expensive. The ones out there are losers anyway.”
...“So you are still looking for your place in the sun?”
...“I guess I’ve been looking forever. Even before we met.”
...She was silent. She daintily moved the steak ends to the side of her plate. He had always been intrigued with how neatly she arranged her food and returned an almost clean plate to the waiter on every occasion.
...“You’re a dreamer, Brad. An ambitious one.”
...“Dreaming with my eyes open?”
...“Always looking beyond – not seeing what’s in front of you. There was always the next big promotion to pursue.”
...“So I gained a career and lost you somewhere.”
...“You dreamed right past me.”
...“And you got impatient.”
...“It’s hard to live with a sleep walker who controls your life. Besides I had my own dreams and they were going nowhere.”
...He looked about the room. The music had increased a notch. “Do you fancy this scene? I bet Jim would have a hard time in here.”
...“That’s why he is not here.”
...“Do you think Jim and you will last?”
...“Nothing lasts. You learn that once you cut loose the first time.”
...“I should know.”
...They sat in silence for awhile. She had the ability to sit through long silences while he always wanted to keep busy and fill the empty seconds.
...“Coffee?” he asked.
...“Decaf – yes”
...As the waiter left to get their coffee, he felt he had to ask her the most important question of the evening.
...“Why are we here, Jane?”
...“You wanted to come, remember? It’s our twentieth anniversary. Our first since the divorce.”
...“But it’s really not the same is it? I mean - this place, the food – this is not what I had in mind.”
...“That’s why I chose it. You’ve got to let go.”
...“Is it too late to tell you that I’ve woken up?”
...“What do you mean?”
...“To tell you that you were the most important thing in my life and I fucked up.”
...She looked at him intently. Her eyes were deep, probing; looking for the insincerity behind lines like this he had used so successfully in the past to patch things up and carry on. Lines to make up for weekends away with business associates, usually women, although he’d always maintained he wasn’t a ‘double dipper’. And all the time she had to be his rock of stability on the home front while he built his career.
...“Did you ever cheat on me?” she said
...“No. Fraternizing with co-workers went out of style in the eighties. I wouldn’t have got this far if I had played the field. That’s God’s truth.”
...She knew there was no falsehood this time because tears were rolling down his cheeks and into the coffee cup.
...“I guess I’ll never know. But I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt,” she said.
...He took a deep breath and shivered. “Is it really too late?”
...“Sometimes you go so far out to sea that there is no turning back. There are only other lands that are closer,” she said.
...“But I’ve come to your other land – to Caruso’s.”
...“And you are a stranger here – you don’t like this scene. You’ve told me that a half dozen times already this evening.”
...“I can try to learn.”
...“Brad – darling – please know when to call it quits. Thank you for the evening. I have to go now.” She lowered her cup and placed her napkin on the table.
...“Will I see you at our next anniversary?”
...“You could – until this exercise becomes less and less meaningful to both of us.”
...She rose, pecked him on the cheek and slipped out. He was left to navigate the tab, the tip, and the noise. He would not come back here again, voluntarily.
...He went outside and hailed a cab. “Take me to another shore,” he said to the driver.
.“And where would that be, sir?” asked the driver.
...“I don’t know,” said his passenger, slumping in the back seat. “Just drive. For once, someone else can be in control.”